


Preheat the Oven

by Skye_Maxwell



Category: Persona 4, Persona Series
Genre: Awkward Romance, Baking, Deadpan Yu, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Innuendo, M/M, References to Drugs, Sexual Tension, Sorry Not Sorry, Suggestive Themes, Thirsty Yosuke, mild ones lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 22:59:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17948783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skye_Maxwell/pseuds/Skye_Maxwell
Summary: If Yu had known just how clueless Yosuke was when it came to baking, he might not have agreed to give him baking lessons. If Yosuke had known how easily kitchen terminology could get suggestive, he might not have asked for the lessons in the first place.





	Preheat the Oven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lod/gifts).



> One night, I stayed up all night writing Souyo and watching baking shows. I then had a dream that they were baking, and they were exceptionally happy about it. I was then informed that I had to write it as a fic, because those are the rules. (Hey, I heard you like suggestive jokes and cute shit.) 
> 
> Dear world, please forgive my American units of measurement.

Yu was so _innocent._

They hadn’t been dating for a terribly long time, but it was long enough, in Yosuke’s opinion, to be a little further along in the physical affection department than they were.

The thing was, their relationship had progressed somewhat out of order. They had gone through hell and back together, _seen each other’s souls,_ and fallen in love all prior to the usual milestones that marked the beginning of a romantic relationship. There was a whole phase of growing attraction and flirting that they had kind of skimmed over, and that left them in a weird place.

Not that the attraction wasn’t there, because it _was._ At least, it was for Yosuke. He couldn’t really read Yu when it came to that sort of thing.

But honestly, Yosuke hadn’t come out of the closet and started dating one of the most attractive human beings in existence just so they could be shy about anything more than holding hands or a quick peck on the lips for literal _months._

Yosuke loved Yu though, so he was very much torn. On the one hand, Yu’s innocence was a rare and precious thing (he was like some sort of beautiful, stupid angel), and Yosuke felt like he wasn’t supposed to mess with that. On the other hand, he kind of just wanted to throw Yu against a wall and show him what he was missing out on.

Today they were hanging out in the Dojima kitchen, as Yu had agreed to give Yosuke baking lessons. Yu was really good at baking, and Yosuke figured he needed to develop some sort of know-how in the kitchen if he wanted a shot at surviving life after high school. Plus, baking seemed to be an innocent enough activity to do together that wouldn’t ruffle Yu’s angel wings.

Yosuke was _trying,_ and he swore if some deity wasn’t watching and storing up a mountain of rewards for him for restraining his thirst, he was gonna be pissed.

“Could you preheat the oven to 350 degrees?”

“Huh? Oh, sure,” Yosuke said, coming back down to earth.

Yosuke padded over to the oven, looking at the various buttons. It inexplicably didn’t have a number pad like his microwave, so he just started pressing different things until the digital display read ‘350’ and the light in the oven blinked on.

“Oven preheated!” Yosuke declared, proud of himself for figuring it out without even asking for help.

“Well, it actually takes about fifteen minutes for that oven to preheat,” Yu said, arranging various ingredients on the counter.

“That’s dumb. Why doesn’t it get hot instantly? The microwave doesn’t need to preheat.”

“The microwave is much smaller and doesn’t reach as high of temperatures and uses completely different technology.”

“Then why don’t they just make a bigger, hotter microwave?”

Yu tilted his head and stared at Yosuke. “You… really like the microwave, huh?”

“It’s pretty much the only kitchen appliance I’ve mastered. Well, except when I burn stuff in it. Dude, one time I was microwaving hot peppers, and they literally caught on fire!”

“Why were you microwaving hot peppers?”

“To make them hotter,” Yosuke said. “And holy crap, when I opened the microwave, all the pepper fumes or whatever got in my eyes, and it hurt like hell!”

“Should I be concerned?”

Yosuke shook his head. “Nah, that was a while ago; my eyes are fine now.”

“I meant, should I be concerned about having you in my kitchen?”

“Don’t worry, Partner, I’ve learned from my mistakes! I now know pretty much everything you shouldn’t put in the microwave: hot peppers, eggs, take-out containers with the little metal handles…”

“Well luckily, we won’t be using the microwave at all today.”

“Not at all? Aw man,” Yosuke said disappointedly. “All right, hotshot, show me your ways!”

Yu blushed a little at that, and Yosuke’s heart thumped painfully.

So freakin’ _innocent…_

Yu cleared his throat and said, “Um, I thought we could start off with something simple, so today we’re going to make a yellow two-layer cake with chocolate buttercream frosting and raspberries on top.”

“We’re going to make _what?_ That was a lot of words for ‘something simple,’ Partner.”

“It’s really not that hard…”

“I thought we were gonna start with something like those little pre-packaged cookie dough squares that you just tear apart, which by the way, you should _not_ put in the microwave.”

“Good to know.”

“But seriously, a two-layer cake? That’s so complicated!”

“How?”

“Because two layers is like, more than one! And _one_ is one more than I’ve ever done! Oh hey, that rhymed.”

“It did,” Yu acknowledged with a nod. “But I’ll walk you through this, I promise. Now, can you measure out one and three-fourths cups of sugar for me?”

“Sure thing,” Yosuke said, his gaze sweeping across the counter and not finding what he was looking for.

As Yosuke went to open one of the upper cabinets, Yu asked, “Where are you going?”

“To get a cup,” Yosuke said, looking at the many different sizes of cups the Dojimas had. “Uh, how do you know which size cup to use?”

When Yosuke looked over his shoulder, he noted that Yu looked distressed. 

“Um, a cup is a unit of measurement,” Yu said, holding up a small plastic cup with a long, flat handle. “This is a measuring cup; those are drinking cups.”

“Oh, whoops. Who knew?”

“Everyone.”

“What?”

“One and three-fourths cups of sugar, please,” Yu said, handing the measuring cup to Yosuke.

“Okay,” Yosuke said, grabbing the closest clear container with white stuff in it.

“No.”

Yosuke looked to Yu, but when he didn’t explain himself, Yosuke started to pull the lid off the container.

_“No.”_

“Why?!”

“That’s flour, Yosuke.”

“Oh. You could have just said that.”

Yu sighed. “I was hoping you would notice.”

“Sorry to crush your hopes, Partner,” Yosuke chuckled, sliding the container back and grabbing the next closest container with white stuff in it. “I didn’t ask for help because I know what I’m doing. At my house, my mom does all the cooking.”

“You don’t ever help her?”

“Nope, she won’t let me. I’m banned from the kitchen while she’s cooking.”

“I see… That’s baking powder, by the way.”

“Crap.”

Yosuke hovered his hand over the next container and looked at Yu expectantly, who shook his head.

“Salt.”

“For real? Why are there so many white powders?” Yosuke asked, moving his hand to the next container. “Let me guess what this one is… cocaine?”

“Yes. I keep a pound of cocaine on the kitchen counter for easy access in a house with a little girl and a cop,” Yu said dully. “No, that’s sugar.”

“Of course it is!” Yosuke said, rolling his eyes and popping the container open. Pulling it closer to himself, he said, “Come here, sweetness. I need a cup of _you.”_

“One and three-fourths cups,” Yu corrected.

“Right. Come here, sweetness,” Yosuke tried again. “I need one and three-fourths cups of _you._ Yeah, no, that doesn’t have the same effect.”

“You’re not trying to get it to go on a date with you; you’re measuring it for baking.”

Yosuke cackled, dumping the sugar into a bowl that Yu had extended toward him.

“Hey, a guy’s always gotta work on his game, right?”

“Not when he’s taken,” Yu said quietly, taking the measuring cup from Yosuke and pushing a smaller one into his hand.

Yosuke smirked over the bowl at Yu, who looked away and blushed again.

In a sing-song voice, Yosuke teased, “Fair enough, Partner.” Then he looked down at the new measuring cup and said brightly, “Oh, a three-fourths cup? Fancy!”

Yosuke measured out the rest of the sugar and put it in Yu’s bowl without incident, which Yu seemed to be pleased with.

“Okay, so I already have the butter ready to go. I took it out of the fridge about an hour ago, so it’s room temperature now, and I cut it into little cubes so it would be easier to mix. Now _this_ is a hand mixer,” Yu said, pointing to a white contraption that looked like a hair dryer but with two bendy metal things coming out of the barrel. “This is what you’re going to cream the butter and sugar with.”

“Whoa, it’s like a weapon!” Yosuke exclaimed, picking the hand mixer up and pointing it at Yu like a gun. “What’s this button? The trigger?”

Yosuke pushed the button, and the two metal things flopped out of the barrel disappointingly, falling to the floor.

Yu stared at Yosuke disappointedly. “You… tried to shoot me.”

“Aw, come on, Superman, don’t bullets just bounce right off of you?” Yosuke asked with a wink before picking up the fallen metal things and taking them over to the sink to clean them off.

“No. They make me die.”

“Sheesh, you’re so dramatic!”

“You’ve betrayed my trust, Yosuke. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover.”

“But everyone knows trust is the foundation of a good relationship! I guess we’ll have to break up.”

“What?” Yu said, his voice higher than usual.

Yosuke quickly set down the metal things and looked over at Yu, who actually looked _sad._

“Whoa, hey, that was a joke!” Yosuke said, reaching out to grab Yu’s hand. “I was just playing along with you!”

“I know,” Yu said, looking lost. “It’s just, I’d never even _thought_ about the possibility of us breaking up.”

So maybe Yosuke wasn’t sure if Yu was attracted to him, but it did appear that Yu would be sad if they broke up, so that was probably a good sign. And if he’d never even entertained the possibility of them breaking up, that meant he wasn’t dreaming up some way of politely kicking Yosuke to the curb, which probably meant he had to be somewhat happy with their relationship.

Yosuke squeezed Yu’s hand more tightly and stepped closer to him.

“Hey, I’m sorry I even put that out there. I take it back. I love you, okay?”

Yu seemed to come back to life, looking up and smiling. “I love you too. I’m just being stupid. Sorry.”

 _A beautiful, stupid angel,_ Yosuke thought fondly.

Suddenly, Yu was cupping the side of Yosuke’s face and urgently pressing a kiss against his lips.

_Holy shit! One, two, three, four…_

Yosuke counted the seconds in his head that their lips were in contact, growing more and more excited with each added number.

_Five? Six?!_

Yu frantically withdrew, turning away from Yosuke to pointlessly rearrange the ingredients on the counter and murmuring something about baking.

 _Six seconds!_ Yosuke thought elatedly. _A new record!_

He shouldn’t have felt physically _winded_ after a six-second, closed-mouth kiss, but he _was._

Yu hardly ever initiated contact, and he had _never_ touched Yosuke’s face like that, and it was only six seconds, but that was _two more_ seconds than the previous record…

And.

It was six _possessive_ seconds.

Yosuke was in love.

Yu was fidgeting around, and it wasn’t until he almost knocked over one of the containers of cocaine (or whatever it was) that he glanced back at Yosuke, who was still reeling.

As soon as they made eye contact, Yu looked away again and started rocking back and forth on his heels.

Yosuke knew he needed to calm down, like _asap,_ but his mind got caught up on the image of him grabbing the mixer gun and shooting the halo right off of Yu’s head.

The telephone rang, making both of them jump, and Yosuke swore he heard Yu whisper _‘thank god’_ as he practically ran to answer it.

Staring at the tense line of Yu’s shoulders as he spoke into the phone, Yosuke wondered what was going to happen if their physical relationship continued at this snail’s pace, making every tiny step forward seem like a damn _event_ that made Yosuke’s heart implode. By the time he coaxed Yu into his bed (like a decade from now), Yosuke would probably get so overwhelmed that he would literally die.

“Holy shit,” Yosuke whispered to himself, wondering if his life was truly in danger.

“Nanako said hi,” Yu reported after hanging up the phone, sounding like he had recovered. “She said they’re having a lot of fun, and they won’t be home for dinner. She sounded really happy,” Yu said, smiling warmly.

“She’s finally getting to spend a whole day with her old man, huh? That’s awesome! She’s really been looking forward to today, so I’m glad it’s working out for her.”

“Me too. She deserves this.”

“And you know what else she deserves? A big slice of an awesome cake baked by her big bro and her favorite Junes employee! So let’s get to it!” Yosuke said, proud of his clever segue back into baking.

Yu nodded appreciatively. “Yeah, let’s do it. But actually, I’ll do this next part. Just watch how I do it, okay?”

As Yu reassembled the hand mixer and plugged it in, Yosuke laughed sheepishly, “Did I not apologize for shooting you yet? Sorry!”

“It’s okay. I’m still not letting you do this part, though.”

“Fine,” Yosuke said, slumping against the counter in defeat.

Yu turned on the hand mixer, and it roared to life with surprising volume for such a small thing. Probably not wanting to raise his voice over the mixer, Yu pointed to the speed knob, which was on the lowest setting, and then he put the spinning metal things into the bowl of butter and sugar.

Yosuke observed closely as Yu moved the mixer back and forth in the bowl, gripping the handle firmly as he gradually increased the speed…

_Oh no._

Yosuke’s eyes actually started to water as he willed them not to be so wide-open.

Yu… was holding a thing… _gripping_ a thing… that was vibrating…

Yosuke jumped away from the counter when he realized he could feel the vibrations from the _vibrating thing in Yu’s hand_ against his side.

_Shit, shit, shit…_

Yu thankfully seemed not to notice, and he finally, mercifully, turned the mixer off and set it on the counter.

“You can tell it’s done when it’s nice and fluffy like that,” Yu said, oblivious to what had transpired in Yosuke’s awful mind, tilting the bowl toward Yosuke.

_Think of something else! Think of someone else! Say something!_

“Uh, it doesn’t look fluffy to me? I mean, Teddie’s bear suit is fluffy, and that doesn’t look like Teddie’s bear suit.”

“It doesn’t, but it’s a different kind of fluffy. But actually, maybe I should beat it a little longer?”

_Holy shit!_

“Nope! It looks perfect! You’ve done enough!” Yosuke exclaimed, reaching over and yanking the plug out of the wall.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Yu said, examining the mixture again. “Good instincts, Yosuke. One of the most important parts of baking is following your instincts.”

Yosuke grumbled, “You _really_ don’t want me to be following my instincts right now.”

“Well, recipe first, then instincts,” Yu clarified. “Okay, now I need you to crack an egg into this bowl.”

Yu pushed a small glass bowl and a carton of eggs in front of Yosuke, and Yosuke sighed in relief, hoping this task would be a good distraction. Yosuke opened the carton and withdrew an egg, holding it above the bowl.

“Now what?”

“Crack the egg.”

“How?”

“What do you mean ‘how’?”

“How do I crack it?”

“You… you just crack it. Have you never cracked an egg before?”

“All right, I’m gonna need you to stop judging me and just tell me how to crack this freakin’ egg.”

“Okay, okay,” Yu said, taking out another egg. “You just hit the side of it against the rim of the bowl or the counter, and then you split it open.” Yu then demonstrated, making it look easy. “See? Don’t hit it too hard, or you’ll break the yolk and get little pieces of shell in there.”

Yosuke swallowed thickly and attempted to do the same, tapping the egg lightly on the rim of the bowl. After a few taps, there was barely a dent in the shell.

“Harder,” Yu instructed.

_“What?”_

“Hit it harder.”

“You’ve gotta be _kidding_ me right now.”

“I’m not? Just hit it harder.”

“Fine!” Yosuke exclaimed, smashing the egg against the bowl and watching as the broken yolk and the shattered eggshell all fell into the bowl, a collapsed monument to Yosuke’s failures.

“Not _that_ hard,” Yu said unhelpfully, holding a hand towel out to Yosuke.

“Maybe baking’s not for me!” Yosuke said, his voice coming out shaky and high-pitched.

“No, you’ll get the hang of it,” Yu said, taking it upon himself to wipe the runny egg remains from Yosuke’s fingers after he didn’t take the towel from him. “It’ll just take some practice. I believe in you. You can do anything.”

 _Anything except you,_ Yosuke thought, mentally slapping himself as soon as the stupid thought crossed his mind.

Releasing Yosuke’s hand, Yu suggested, “How about you take a break and watch me do the next few steps?”

“Okay,” Yosuke agreed, not trusting himself to say anything else.

He watched in silence as Yu added in eggs (without destroying them) and vanilla (Yosuke had no idea that vanilla was a liquid?) to the butter mixture, and then he used the dreaded hand mixer to beat them all together. No longer bothering to explain what he was doing, Yu combined various amounts of three of the cocaines and beat that mixture in, along with some milk.

“See? Not so bad,” Yu said, unplugging the mixer. He then handed a spray can to Yosuke and took out two round cake pans. “This next part is kind of fun, so I’ll let you do it. All you have to do is spray the insides of the pans.”

“That’s it?” Yosuke asked, reading the label on what was apparently cooking spray (that seemed vague) and then shaking it as per the instructions.

“Yep, just shake and spray.”

Yosuke sprayed the insides of the pans, and he guessed it was a _little_ fun, if he pretended it was a spray paint can and he was tagging Adachi’s car.

“Good,” Yu approved. “A generous coating will help the cakes slide out of the pan once they’re done baking. Now what I like to do is spread it out with my fingers so I can make sure it’s even and feel if I missed a spot.”

He took one of the pans, leaving the other for Yosuke, who was almost beyond defeated at this point.

_You want me to lube up this cake pan by hand? Fine. Great. It would be my pleasure._

Yu finished first and then watched Yosuke slowly work the spray over the metal surface, until he cleared his throat and almost _snatched_ the pan away from him…

“Now I’ll just put the batter in…”

Yu’s normally steady hands _shook_ as he poured the batter into the pans, and Yosuke sure as hell _noticed._

“And now we go in the oven for about half an hour,” Yu said, lifting both pans. “Could you open the oven door for me?”

“Sure…” Yosuke said, eying Yu as he opened the door.

“Um, Yosuke? Did you turn the oven on?”

“Yeah. The light is on, see? 350, right?”

They simultaneously looked at the digital display, which now read ‘418.’

Yu almost looked devastated.

“Yosuke…” he said softly. “There’s no heat coming out. You didn’t turn the oven on. You just turned the light on and changed the clock to 3:50.”

“I’m done,” Yosuke declared numbly, falling back against the refrigerator and sliding down to the floor.

He drew his knees to his chest and buried his head in his hands, only vaguely registering the beeping sounds of Yu actually, you know, turning the oven _on._

At some point, Yu sat on the ground beside Yosuke and tentatively slid his arm around Yosuke’s shoulders.

“Yosuke?”

“What?”

“If I tell you the truth about something, will you promise not to get mad at me?”

Yosuke slowly lifted his head out of his hands, curiosity gnawing at his insides.

_Oh no. Is he going to tell me he thinks I’m the biggest moron he’s ever met? And that he can’t risk being associated with me anymore?_

“Uh, sure, Partner,” Yosuke said, feeling sick. “The truth is… good.”

Yu took a deep breath and then said, “I meant it when I said I believe in you, and I think with some time and patience, you could be a perfectly adequate baker or cook or whatever you want to be. But also… you sucking at baking is weirdly adorable? And like, teaching you baking is kind of a turn-on? I mean, I’d probably be a better teacher if I wasn’t so distracted, but like… I didn’t realize it before, but baking instructions can sound kind of… dirty.”

Yosuke rounded on Yu, shooting him daggers.

“You are _fucking_ kidding me,” he said, irritated. “You’re _seriously_ turned on right now?”

“Um, yes?”

 _“You_ are turned on by _me,_ right now?” Yosuke asked, needing utmost clarification.

Yu frowned. “You promised you wouldn’t get mad.”

“I’m _mad_ because I wasn’t even sure you were attracted to me before!” Yosuke said near-hysterically. “And I’ve been feeling guilty this whole time for thinking dirty thoughts about you while you ordered me around and used that _sinful_ hand mixer, and meanwhile you were feeling the same way?!”

“You… You were…” Yu said breathlessly, his blush more prevalent than ever. “Why would you think I wasn’t attracted to you?”

“Because you don’t act like it! Prior to today, you’ve never kissed me for more than four seconds!”

“You count the seconds?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

Clenching his fists and waving them around, Yosuke whined, “Because I want it to last for a lot more seconds than it usually does!”

“Oh… I didn’t know you wanted that,” Yu said, his words slow and heavy. "You were so resistant to the idea of dating a guy at first, so I was trying not to push you. Usually when I kiss you, it’s not because I think you want me to; it’s because I just can’t help it.”

Clutching his chest as he felt a heart-implosion coming on, Yosuke said faintly, “Stop it.”

“But if you’re telling me you want… more, then I’m more than willing to, um… deliver.”

Yu… was _not_ innocent.

But in like, the most innocent way possible.

“Beautiful, stupid angel,” Yosuke breathed, shrugging Yu’s arm off his shoulders and then climbing on top of him. He grabbed two fistfuls of Yu’s shirt and quickly glanced at the oven’s timer. “We have twelve minutes until the oven finishes preheating.”

 _“Holy shit,”_ Yu whispered as Yosuke descended upon him.

They eventually baked the cake, probably.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay look, there were a few parts that I deliberately planned on making suggestive, but the rest of it just kinda naturally presented itself. So, it’s really mostly not even my fault.


End file.
